


You're holy to me

by theorchidhorror



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Porn Without Plot, weirdly religious imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 06:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18047255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchidhorror/pseuds/theorchidhorror
Summary: Gabriel Reyes and Moira O'Deorain are two sides of the same Catholic raised coin, and let's be honest; sex in a church is not the most blasphemous thing either of them have ever done.





	You're holy to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uultima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uultima/gifts).



He had been almost surprised to see the church out here.

Nestled between crumbling office buildings- casualties of the Crisis, as were most buildings in this part of the city- something about the church had called out to him, inviting him to enter. 

Out of habit, Gabriel crosses himself as he passes over the threshold; the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit... like muscle memory to him- though the Sunday mornings being dragged to 7am mass with his mother and abuela seem like lifetimes ago. He takes a few cautious steps inside, scanning the shadows for hidden assailants and, finding the place clear, nearly collapses into a seat in a pew up towards the front of the building. 

He’s...so tired today. The mission hadn’t been especially taxing- they’d only been breaking into an old building for some information- but... he’s sure the team noticed the hesitation in his step, the way he let Jesse take point on the infiltration instead of doing it his damn self. The degradation is getting worse, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep it a secret from the team. He’s not sure how much longer he wants to keep it a secret.

Almost mechanically he lowers himself to the floor, kneeling, and begins to pray. The words are halting, sticking in his throat from years of not being used, but it’s the only thing he can think to do. 

“Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos, santificado sea tu nombre-”

“The Lord’s prayer.”

Her voice, soft and smooth as it is, startles Gabriel, and he jumps to standing at the sound of it. Moira strides down the aisle and all at once he notices how small the place feels with her in it. The grand architecture, the once glittering stained glass windows, all pale in comparison to the way O’Deorain holds herself here, as if she’s above it all. Maybe she is. 

“ I thought you didn’t speak Spanish, O’Deorain. ”

“ Indoctrination is a powerful thing, Gabriel. I’d recognize it anywhere, much to my dismay.” She smiles thinly, coming to a halt at his pew, and takes a seat beside him. “The words may change, but the cadence is universal.”

There’s a silence between them then, comfortable, as they usually are- but different in a way Gabriel can’t quite nail down. The sunset’s begun to stream in, and the last lingering rays of sunshine catching on her face cast her as gilded and regal; the most holy fucking thing in the room, if she’d forgive him for thinking it. 

Leaning down, Gabriel catches her lips in a kiss. Soft, and relatively chaste, but he can still feel her gasp against him and feel the tension in her body rise- as if the last lingering threads of her Catholic upbringing are screaming unholy blasphemy at her. He smiles into the kiss; if the two of them weren’t struck down by God himself upon entering the place, there’s very little the two of them could do now that would warrant a smiting. 

Almost as if she can read his thoughts, Moira relaxes, snaking her arms around his shoulders and kissing him back; hungry, aching kisses that stirs something in him that he hadn’t been anticipating. Gabriel takes the kiss as much of an invitation as he’s going to get and in one swift movement, he’s scooped her up and is walking her up the steps of the sanctuary.

He sets her on the smooth stone surface of the altar and the two finally break their kiss. 

“Gabriel...” She practically purrs his name, leaning back onto her forearms with an expectant smirk. Obediently, he kneels before her, wiggling Moira’s pants down over her hips and off entirely. 

He presses a lingering kiss to the inside of her soft thigh, he wants to savor it, worship every inch of Moira O’Deorain, but- well, the hands tugging insistently in his hair remind him that the good doctor has never been one for patience when it’s the only thing standing between her and something she wants.

Gabriel buries his face between her legs, and is surprised to find O’Deorain already slick with arousal. Rather than tease her on the matter (not that he’d be able to pull away if he wanted to), he moves right on to fucking her. His tongue laps slowly against her and Moira hisses, rocking her hips up in a silent command for more.

He obliges, sucking lightly on her clit with a hum, and the undignified whine that spouts from Moira as she grinds against him only serves as encouragement to continue. Gabriel’s work is methodical- annoyingly slow, as Moira once put it, but every long flick of his tongue sends electricity up her spine. 

Adjusting slightly, Gabriel slides a finger into O’Deorain, curling it against her. She gasps, shuddering, and he begins to fuck her with it, a steady pace to compliment his mouth on her clit.

The string of Irish that falls from her mouth as she comes is as hymns from a choir. 

Moira pulls Gabriel’s face in closer as she rides the waves of her orgasm against him and it’s all he can to do smile as she does, satisfied at the way she looks in this moment of pleasure. A far cry from the stoicism of her day to day life. 

Finally she collapses, panting, back against the altar and Gabriel stands, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of her. The taste of Moira lingers on his mouth and he can’t help but smirk.

“You’re certainly pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Again, almost as if she can read his thoughts. 

“Ask me again after another couple rounds of that.”

Gabriel leans over her, pressing another light kiss to her forehead and Moira hums, thoughtful.

“I like the way you think, Commander.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Our muses have sex in a place of worship."
> 
> Crossposted here from my personal rp blog because I love my wife and she asked me to.  
> Wrote whilst sick, so sorry if it reads a little weirder than normal.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
